


Strange Loop

by Liviapenn



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Casual Sex, Episode Related, Episode: s02e05 Condemned, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-09-03
Updated: 2005-09-03
Packaged: 2017-10-14 14:26:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 903
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/150225
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Liviapenn/pseuds/Liviapenn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"It wasn't reckless, it was necessary," John said at some point over the past year and a half. She doesn't remember what he was talking about, but she remembers his voice. "I did what I had to do, I did what was needed."</p><p>Elizabeth needs this.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Strange Loop

but you can't stop yourself from wanting worse  
'cause nothing feeds a hunger  
like a thirst  
~ liz phair, "strange loop"

 

Elizabeth has known William Lorne for three months. He is thirty-four, young for his rank and responsibility. Five years younger than Elizabeth. His divorce became final two months before he requested a transfer to Atlantis. He has likely never taken orders from a civilian before, but he treats Elizabeth with respect. More than that, he *looks* at her with respect. That's not just rare among men in the military, it's rare among men, period. Elizabeth appreciates it.

These are all good reasons. Good reasons not to do this.

He's scratching idly at his shoulder as he comes out of the makeshift locker room outside the jumper bay. Lazy and unselfconscious and male.

He straightens when he sees her. There is no one in the hallway. There is no one left in the locker room. "Dr. Weir?"

She opens her mouth and realizes she has no idea what to call him. She has only ever heard his men call him Major, or sir. John calls him Major sometimes, that or just Lorne. He could be "Will" or "Bill" or "William." Obviously what she should say here is "Call me Elizabeth," and then he'd say "Call me--" whatever-- and she'd know. And she'd also be one step closer to what she wants.

She takes a step forward, instead. Into his space. They're wearing the same shoes. Elizabeth is taller.

John should never have let her negotiate with the Genii alone, she thinks. Or maybe the seeds of this moment were planted even further back than that. The storm, Kolya, trapped with nothing but her wits and Rodney's words-- maybe that was it, the start of her career as an adrenaline junkie. Maybe that was when she got reckless.

"It wasn't reckless, it was necessary," John said at some point over the past year and a half. She doesn't remember what he was talking about, but she remembers his voice. "I did what I had to do, I did what was needed."

Elizabeth needs this.

*

William Lorne is from Seattle, Washington. He has letters of commendation in his file from both General Hammond and General O'Neill. He has a dry, unassumingly clever wit that Elizabeth has only ever heard from around corners, before she walks into the briefing room and the day begins.

He is straddling the bench in the locker room, and she is straddling him, her hands on his shoulders. His hands are on her hips, moving her as best he can as they twist against each other, as his mouth presses hard and hot against her shoulders and her throat and her breasts. He grinned once, when she slipped the condom into his hand. She was blushing all the way to the tops of her ears-- she could feel it-- but he wasn't grinning about that.

Major Lorne makes Elizabeth come twice before he puts his arm around her waist and leans forward, lowering her down to lie on her back on the bench. She locks her legs around him, clutching him tight as he moves towards his own orgasm, his dog tags dragging hard over the bump of her collarbone.

"God!" he gasps against her shoulder. He's still bracing her neck with his arm. She still doesn't know what to call him.

*

William Lorne has a tattoo of a growling cartoon bulldog over the letters USMC on his left shoulder. He has a jagged, ugly scar on his right side that looks like someone dragged a fork with sharpened tines through his skin. Several times. He is what you might refer to as a considerate lover, if you were the type of woman who didn't like to say 'fuck,' as in: 'William Lorne is a great fuck.'

Less than an hour ago, when they arrived back at Atlantis from Elycia, John had told Elizabeth that she should've headed back through the Gate at the first sign of trouble or duplicity. Suppose his team had been dead already, he said. ("As, several times, we very nearly were!" Rodney pointed out.) Atlantis couldn't afford to lose her leadership as well.

"John," Elizabeth said, exasperated, "you have never once in your *life* made a decision based on the assumption that your own safety is of more importance than the lives of the people under your command."

"Yeah," John began slowly, obviously stalling for time, but after a long pause the best rebuttal he could come up with was a shrug and a grin. "And look where it got me. So there you go."

"Yes," Elizabeth had said, and she had smiled, and that was the end of that conversation. She wonders what John would say if he knew about this. She wonders if John's ever done anything like this. She snaps her bra back on, and takes her shirt from Lorne when he hands it to her.

"There you go."

"Thank you, Major."

He looks up at that. His eyes aren't surprised but they do hold a certain amount of wry amusement. Elizabeth shrugs and smiles. Sex usually makes her feel sleepy and serene, but right now she feels so alert it almost hurts, jangly and prickling with adrenaline. Alive. John's whole life, she thinks to herself, is made of days like this.

Major Lorne smiles to himself and puts his pants back on.

[end]


End file.
